


Close

by Lady_Ganesh



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Adrenaline kink, Community: springkink, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-05
Updated: 2011-09-05
Packaged: 2017-10-24 00:44:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Ganesh/pseuds/Lady_Ganesh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Faith knows there's something up with the cute guy who took her to dinner. She just didn't realize what.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close

**Author's Note:**

> Ignoring the comics, vague spoilers for TV canon.

Faith should've known better. He was younger, good-looking in an underfed kind of way, had money. It _had_ to be a setup.

As they finished dessert, the truth started coming out. "I sort of lied to you," Connor said. "By omission."

 _Goddamn it._ Faith had heard that song and dance before.

"I know you're a Slayer," he said, and with a preamble like that, it was no big surprise. "And ... I met you. Years ago. You don't remember," he waved his hand, "magic."

Faith tightened her hand on the stake she kept in her jacket pocket. At least they'd finished eating first. "Magic."

"We were on the same side," he said. "But I was pretty screwed up then."

Faith lifted her eyebrows. "You're not now?"

He chuckled. "It was different. Anyway, I just wanted us to hang out before anything got heavy. Just dinner. So thanks. If you wanna take off, I'll understand. I mean, I'd like it if--"

She noticed it the same moment he did. A soft movement, slithering, inhuman. Just outside the kitchen.

They looked at each other. "I'll take the back door," he said, and she could watch him calculating. "You'll have more luck getting in."

"Okay," she said. She was wearing a clingy red dress; he was right. They rose together.

  
She didn't quite sneak or charm her way in, but she got in. That guy shouldn't have tried to look down her dress when he refilled her water glass anyway; if she'd wanted him to see, she would've made it easy.

She could smell it, whatever it was, anyway; fine French food didn't really blend well with the stench of rotting cabbage. The other men and women in the kitchen looked up at her; she stared them down. "You want that thing out of here, right?"

One man shook his head. _"Je ne--"_

"You nothing," Faith said, and grabbed one of the kitchen knives.

They were still too in shock to move, or maybe the smell was finally reaching them; at any rate, they let her stalk to the back of the kitchen, near the walk-in cooler. She saw it then, just at the edge of her vision. Oh, _great._ She loved the edge-of-your-perception monsters, really she did. Maybe she'd be better blindfighting and trusting her sense of smell--

The back door burst open -- Faith heard a hinge hit the ground and rattle -- and Connor followed, holding a pipe he must've found somewhere in the alley. The back of Faith's brain noted _strong_ and _resourceful_ as the rest of her concentration followed the slither.

"Oh great," Connor said, "one of those 'corner-of-your-eye' types."

"Yeah," Faith agreed.

Connor looked up and scanned the faces watching them. "They hypnotized?"

"I think maybe," she said. Someone should be freaking out by now, or at least asking stupid questions. Was she immune, because she was the Slayer? Or was it just a matter of time?

Connor was approaching the slither from his position near the knocked-down door; Faith followed his lead and got closer from her end. Pin it down, force it out into the open, or out into their vision. Whatever Connor was, he'd been trained well enough. They moved slowly, keeping the thing at the edges of their vision, moving closer, trying to push it toward the wall.

It hissed, and Connor frowned, squinted, and threw the pipe. It dodged, but the only path it could take was straight into Faith's field of vision.

And Faith didn't miss.

The smell got even worse once it died, and something thick and black poured out of its throat. It was about four feet long, about as wide as her fist, with a head that looked like the end of a sledgehammer. Faith couldn't see any eyes. "Will it ... spawn from that?" she asked.

"Don't think so," Connor said. "Usually those lay eggs. We should check the body."

"Right," Faith said.

Connor walked forward, poked at the snake-like corpse with his toe--

 _The mate,_ Faith realized, even as Connor ducked, even as Faith herself moved forward, grabbing for the knife. They moved in concert, Connor sliding inches out of the way as Faith caught the thing with her left hand and her fingers found the handle of the knife. The blood spilled across Connor's nice white shirt.

"Sorry," she said.

"I'm not," he said.

  
They checked the bodies and made a quick retreat before the mojo wore off, Connor sending Faith out with a handful of bills to drop on their table. "We didn't pay enough, we saved their restaurant," he rationalized. If the smell got out of the kitchen, there'd be a lot of fleeing customers, anyway.

She met him back in the alley, her purse back over her shoulder, just like any lady back from a date on a Friday night. The life of a Slayer never got old.

"That was close," he said. "Thanks."

"Yeah," she said. "No problem."

Some things never changed; fighting always got to her, and a careful look at him showed he was in the same mood. They moved a couple alleys down before they dared do anything about it, though; Faith still loved pushing her luck, but she'd dialed it down over the years.

"I should tell you," he said, but she kissed him before he could. She didn't really care any more, and once she got her hands on his fly he didn't seem to, either. She braced herself against the back of the alley and let him hold her up, pushing her panties down with one hand. "Condoms," she gasped as he fingered her, "in my purse."

He was pretty good, especially under the circumstances, and she'd liked the way he moved. Not a bad first date, even if it was probably the last. "So," she asked, straightening her clothes and checking her hair by feel, "what was it you wanted to tell me?"

"Maybe we should save it for the second date," he said.

"Yeah," she grinned. "Maybe we should."


End file.
